


Show Me What You Got

by fuzipenguin



Series: Kinktober 2018 [27]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Established Relationship, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Twincest, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-13 23:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16482056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: Even in a great relationship, there can sometimes still be doubts. Sequel to Day 10 - Ginger





	Show Me What You Got

**Author's Note:**

> Day 27. Masturbation

                The thing about Sunstreaker, is that he both loves and hates attention. He wants to be acknowledged and praised for his various skills, but he gets all squirmy when someone _actually_ praises him. An uncomfortable Sunstreaker is a volatile one. If the other person is lucky, they’ll get a wordless grumble and ducked head in response, which is more adorable than it has any right to be, in Sideswipe’s opinion.

                Sunstreaker is far more accepting of compliments from Sideswipe. However, there is still the occasional insecurity that raises its ugly head every now and then, still the occasional flare-up of doubt that the only reason Sideswipe tolerates him is because they share a spark. And there are even some activities Sunstreaker won’t do, no matter if the only witness to them is Sideswipe.

                The mutual masturbation thing had been one of them. Sideswipe hadn’t pressed the issue, because it had been obvious Sunstreaker was uncomfortable. He understood, so he let it go.

                Ok, so maybe he _hadn’t_ really understood. Sideswipe had recognized Sunstreaker’s anxiety, but he was a little miffed that Sunstreaker hadn’t noticed _Sideswipe’s_ hurt. After all, it didn’t exactly feel good when the mech he shared his spark with wasn’t comfortable self-servicing in front of him.

                Which is why when Sideswipe slips into the washracks and spies Sunstreaker intently stroking his spike, Sideswipe freezes in indecision. Should he call out to his brother, let him know Sideswipe was there? Should he stay silent and watch, take what he could get?

                After several seconds, he sighs and locks the washracks door. Even though Sunstreaker will surely stop masturbating, he’d still might welcome a quick ‘face.

                Sideswipe then gently tugs on their bond and walks forward, optics hungrily drinking in the sight before him He won’t get another chance like this so Sideswipe makes sure to take a few image captures as well. They’ll certainly go to good use during the few times Sideswipe is away from his brother.

                When asked, Sideswipe vehemently states there is no mech or femme more beautiful than his twin. Oh, the Praxians’ sensory panels are fascinating, Optimus’ shoulders make Sideswipe’s panel a little tight, and Mirage’s thin and delicate fingers just beg to be licked and sucked.

                He’s not dead, after all. They both have artistic gazes, although Sunstreaker is the only one who can translate it to actual works of art.

                Sideswipe has never wished to have his brother’s skill more than this moment; it _needs_ to be immortalized. He aches with longing at the sight of Sunstreaker’s head tipped backwards, his lips parted slightly in pleasure. Water continually beads up across his plating, the gold of his armor glowing softly from the droplets’ refracted light. At this distance, it’s hard to tell if there’s more than just water slicking Sunstreaker’s spike, but Sideswipe suspects so. From the pitch of Sunstreaker’s engine, he’s close to coming.

                “You started without me, bro,” Sideswipe says softly, leaning on the partition dividing Sunstreaker’s stall from the other two.

                Surprisingly, Sunstreaker doesn’t startle. He just opens his optics and gazes sidelong at Sideswipe, his hand continually tugging and pulling on his spike. Glossa swiping over his lower lip, he settles his shoulders more securely against the wall.

                “I got tired of waiting,” he says. Static fills his voice and Sideswipe wants to go to him, kiss him, and touch him all over. Resisting the urge to do so is actually painful. But Sunstreaker hasn’t said to ‘get over here’ and Sideswipe doesn’t want to break this fragile peace.

                 He’s also not telling Sideswipe to stop staring. And Sideswipe is _definitely_ staring.

                “Sorry… you know how Prowl gets. Wants to know every… single… little… detail,” Sideswipe says distractedly.

                Primus… Sunstreaker’s legs are trembling and his hips are pushing his spike into the circle of his fingers and Sideswipe… _wants._ Why had he thought it would be a good idea to just watch Sunstreaker self-service again? He was starting to think he hadn’t actually thought this all the way through.

                “Mmhm… like what you see?”

                Sideswipe tears his gaze away from Sunstreaker’s pelvis and back up to his twin’s face. His optics are dark with desire, but Sideswipe can see a hint of uncertainty mixed in with the sultriness.

                “Yes,” Sideswipe says bluntly. “Always. You’re the hottest mech who ever existed.”

                Annnndd… there goes the head ducking. But Sunstreaker’s hand also picks up speed and Sideswipe feels a surge of triumph. Sunstreaker is letting him watch!

                “You gonna overload, Sunny?” Sideswipe asks quietly, digging his fingers into the edge of the partition. He grinds his overheated panel against the corner, seeking some relief. At this point, he could probably pop it, stroke it just once and overload… he’s _that_ revved up.

                “… yeah,” Sunstreaker says faintly. He slides his feet apart a little, plating starting to steam when it turns hotter than the water. Lifting his head back up, he tentatively peeks at Sideswipe as if checking to see if he’s still watching. Some of the shyness melts away when he sees Sideswipe essentially humping the wall. “… are you?”

                “Ohhh, baby, you better believe it,” Sideswipe says in a rush. “But I wanna watch you first. Come for me, Sunny? Please… please, I want to see it. I want to see you so badly, please…”

                Sideswipe has very little shame and is not afraid to beg. Never has been. He can usually tell with almost 100% certainty when it’ll get him what he wants. This is definitely one of those times. 

                It works. Sunstreaker squeezes his optic shutters closed and his vents hitch. Over the sound of water falling down onto metal, Sideswipe hears Sunstreaker’s engine rev. He can see the exact moment Sunstreaker releases his insecurities and gives in to the pleasure.

                Sunstreaker’s throaty moan as he overloads makes Sideswipe’s spark pulse hotly. He absently grinds the heel of his palm against his chest as he fixedly watches transfluid shoot out from Sunstreaker’s spike. It trails down his fingers, some of it dripping off to splatter on the floor, immediately washed down the drain.

                Sideswipe can’t hold back any longer. He waddles forward and drops to his knees between his brother’s feet, panel retracting. One hand wraps around his own spike while the other grips Sunstreaker’s thigh for balance. Sunstreaker startles a little at the touch and he makes an inquisitive sound. It turns into a grunt as Sideswipe desperately mouths at Sunstreaker’s fluid-covered fingers, his pelvis rocking as he strokes himself.

                “… do it… Sides, c’mon…let me see you,” Sunstreaker whispers brokenly. He lovingly sweeps a finger across the underside of Sideswipe’s chin, tilting it up.

                Fair’s fair, Sideswipe decides.

                He can’t keep his optics open, but he throws his head back with a spiraling cry as his overload feels like it is forcibly pulled out of him. It’s so good that he has to just sag in place, drunkenly leaning against his brother’s leg as his head swims during the aftermath

                “… thank you… thank you, Sunny,” he murmurs, not even sure Sunstreaker has heard it.

                The gentle hand atop Sideswipe’s helm tells him Sunstreaker had.

                Sometimes Sideswipe has his own insecurities – he’ll think Sunstreaker doesn’t take him seriously or even really hear him. He’ll occasionally forget that Sunstreaker always does, even if Sideswipe doesn’t actually say anything. 

 

~ End


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